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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842999">White Shark Café</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretoreadhannibalfics/pseuds/justheretoreadhannibalfics'>justheretoreadhannibalfics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And he's cool with it, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, They just hang out in his cafe, Will accidentally becomes a beacon for killers, Will is a bit oblivious, Will is actually pretty chill about that, but it's chill, coffee shop AU, in regards to hannibal only</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:28:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,417</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretoreadhannibalfics/pseuds/justheretoreadhannibalfics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It started out as a joke. There was no way Beverly could have known she would end up being right about the Café. Now Will was stuck playing host to the most dangerous group of regulars in the area, and he was about to catch the eye of the most dangerous out of them.<br/>---<br/>Will owns a café, and killers love it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham &amp; Abigail Hobbs, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>605</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Serendipity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The name had started out mostly as a joke between Will and Beverly. He had told her about the spot in the ocean where Great White Sharks seemed to gather periodically for a reason no one had been able to properly identify yet. She had joked that it would be a clever name for an actual Café, and that something along the lines of nominative determinism would make it so eventually the clientele would all be criminals.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Little had she known at the time, but she was really onto something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Will had opened the Café, nothing out of the ordinary had shown up for a few weeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first killer had walked in on a slow morning, glowering at the world like it had personally offended him for the last time. Will could tell the man was one wrong word away from deciding to kill the first person that talked to him, but Will had a trick up his sleeve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I do for you this morning?” Will had asked, grinning brightly, “White Shark Café has something for everyone’s unique tastes, be they predator or prey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man had frowned curiously at Will for that, clearly trying to figure out if he knew something. Will only smiled, though he wanted it to be clear he was a friend and not a threat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What would you recommend?” the man asked, glancing at Will's name tag, “Will?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will looked the man over, letting himself step into his head for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A Short Blonde,” he said after a moment, flashing another smile, “Seems like your type. I think you’d also appreciate one of our gunshots, which is just a jelly donut. Do those sound good to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man looked at Will in wonder, barely concealed fear, and even more confusion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” he said hesitantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will nodded and rang it up, telling the man his total.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No need to worry, sir,” Will assured him, “White Shark is privately owned, and I have no intention of getting mixed up in any official business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will set the coffee and the donut on the counter and forced eye contact with the man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Understand?” he prodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man slowly smiled, nodding slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I think I do,” he said, “Thank you, Will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will nodded in return.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be careful out there,” He warned as the man walked to a table, “and don’t get me mixed up in anything either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man grinned and nodded, agreement enough for both of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second time a killer had shown up, Will had almost not noticed. He had been tired, and wasn’t feeling sociable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman was acting a bit jumpy, and stared at Will as if he might lunge at her at any moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will greeted her with what had become his habitual tagline for the café.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“White Shark Café has something for everyone’s unique tastes, be they predator or prey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman startled at the words, and her eyes widened with horror as she stared at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was when Will let himself read her, and he nodded softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look like you need a ‘He Had It Coming’, and one of our ‘Warm Hugs’,” he said, pointing to the items on the menu, “A warm hug is just a chocolate croissant. Do those sound alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman nodded, her eyes glistening with tears that were both relieved and afraid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you-” she began.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can see you more clearly than most,” Will said gently, “and I know how to mind my own business. I wouldn’t have even brought it up, but you needed someone to understand. Be careful out there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman nodded, thanking him tearfully as she walked out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After that, it was as if there was some sort of community of killers, and they regularly talked with each other, because they started showing up almost every day. After only a few weeks, Will had a regular clientele of killers. He didn’t know any of their names, knowing better than to ask. A few of them had given him aliases, or he had overheard them when they spoke to another customer, so he at least had a name to call them by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will just kept his head down, being polite to them all and being sure to show understanding whenever he could see that one of them had recently killed or was about to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the nature of his customers, Will found it to be a surprisingly comfortable community atmosphere. No one in the café was truly who they said they were, but they all understood that they were among like minds. They were in no danger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will had only had to break up one fight, and then it was an unspoken rule among the customers that no one was allowed to cause a disruption in White Shark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will ended up hiring a girl whose father had been a client. Her father had been caught and killed, and she was left alone. Will knew Abigail shared some of her father’s tendencies, but he figured that would make her the perfect employee for the café. He made sure she understood the exact nature of their customer pool, and what would be expected of her. She had readily agreed, happy to find a community like it after being rejected by more polite society.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will had initially worried about bringing a young girl into a den of monsters such as he had built, but the general consensus came soon enough, and every regular treated Abigail like family. They were polite, friendly, and offered(subtly as well as not-so subtly) to take care of anyone who gave her trouble.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will was actually really enjoying running the café like this. The customers considered it a safe haven, and they were willing to protect it with their lives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will was happy, and everything was going smoothly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until the Chesapeake Ripper walked through his door.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Greetings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Will felt an involuntary chill run down his spine when the man walked in for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Burgundy eyes scanned over the entirety of the café before the tall man strode up to the counter. He was wearing a window pane suit that should have been ridiculous. Will found that it actually managed to soften his appearance, probably helping him to appear less threatening to people who didn’t know what he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will saw Jeff come in right after, and worried a bit that they would be standing near each other in line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“White Shark Café has something for everyone’s unique tastes, be they predator or prey,” Will said to the Chesapeake Ripper, smiling politely, but not overly friendly. He didn’t want to annoy the man. “What can I get for you this morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man studied him carefully for a moment, as if stripping him bare and learning his soul. It made Will want to squirm, but he just held eye contact, showing the man he was not afraid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have heard that you are quite adept at guessing what your customers would enjoy,” the man said, his voice smooth and accented, “why don’t you give it a try on me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a test. Will could tell. He was trying to find out what Will could really see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will huffed a soft laugh and turned the menu so it was visible to both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think an artist's blood and a cannibal crown would be to your taste,” Will said, smiling coyly and raising his eyebrows expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ripper looked at Will with thinly veiled fascination. He didn’t seem concerned that Will had been able to see him. He turned and read the descriptions of the items Will had pointed out, nodding in consideration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They sound acceptable. I must warn you that my tastes are very refined,” the man said, seeming amused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured. Abigail will make that for you if you’ll just stand over here so I can get the next order.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nodded at Abigail and handed her the ticket. He had made a note for her to be extra polite with the man, because Will didn’t want to have her earn a place on his list of future meals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man did as Will bid him to, letting Jeff walk up to the counter next. Will saw Jeff cast some dubious glances at the Ripper, but he didn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your usual, Jeff?” Will asked, already writing the order down. Jeff always had the same thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure thing, Will,” Jeff said happily, “You been reading the news lately?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will shrugged, huffing a soft laugh. Jeff really liked for his kills to get into the news, and he always asked Will about it if he thought the article was particularly good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much,” Will replied, “You know I’m busy baking and running the café all the time. If it wasn’t on the tv, I didn’t see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff nodded, though he did look a little disappointed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough. Has Abs applied to any colleges yet?” Jeff continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will smiled, glancing over to where Abigail was talking pleasantly with the Chesapeake Ripper. The man seemed to be satisfied with her service, which was a relief for Will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet. She wants to be sure she has enough saved up for tuition. She’s thinking of going into psychology.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff grinned, accepting his coffee and pastry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll leave a big tip as long as you promise she’ll get it,” Jeff said, “She’ll be a great student when she goes. I’ll just be sad I won’t see her anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we’ll all be sad to see her go, but she already promised me she’ll visit after she leaves. Have a good day, Jeff, and be careful out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff saluted smartly and turned to take a seat at a table with a few other regulars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you certain you are old enough to be employed here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff and Will both froze upon hearing the Ripper ask Abigail that. Will stared at Jeff, knowing he was going to react poorly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, new guy,” Jeff said, walking right up to the Ripper with a scowl, “Abs is nineteen, and Will doesn’t serve alcohol. She’s saving up to go to college, and you’d better not give her any grief.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ripper turned, annoyance flickering over his features as he studied Jeff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not mean any harm by the comment. I was simply concerned for her mental health, as it can be hard on young people to work,” the man said smoothly and calmly, “are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> very well acquainted with her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The insinuation wasn’t lost on Jeff, and Will could see a few other heads turning their way. He would have a riot soon if he didn’t settle this. They were all willing to get kicked out if it meant they could defend Abigail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No harm meant, and no harm done,” Will cut in, motioning for Jeff to hold his tongue, “my apologies, sir. The regulars are very friendly with both Abigail and I. They can get a bit defensive if they feel one of us has been snubbed or anything. Please don’t mind Jeff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will made hard eye contact with the Ripper, then. He wanted his full meaning to get through. The man had better not kill Jeff for this, because Jeff just didn’t know who he was messing with. He didn’t know the shark he was taunting had bigger teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well,” the Ripper said, then turned to Jeff, “I apologize. I hope you do not hold this against me. As you have said, I am new to this café, and it seems there is a unique atmosphere I have not been privy to as of yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff narrowed his eyes at the man, but glanced to Will for confirmation. Will nodded solemnly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Jeff said, “just don’t give Will or Abs any trouble. Plenty of us are willing to help them out if they ever need anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ripper nodded. Jeff cast one more glance to Will, as if giving him a chance to rescind his request for peace. Will only smiled politely, and Jeff headed to his seat. The Ripper watched Will for a moment, in which Will just continued with his usual activities, arranging the pastries in the display and taking inventory to make sure they weren’t low on anything. Abigail headed into the back to check on the pastries that were still in the oven, and eventually the Ripper walked away and found himself a window seat in the café.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will felt his entire body relax once he was no longer trapped in the man’s gaze. He saw that the rest of the customers weren’t welcoming him in the way they normally did with a new guy. They kept their distance, maybe sensing he was a different caliber, or maybe trying to be unfriendly to make him not come back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will wasn’t sure he wanted the Ripper to come back, but he sure as hell didn’t want the Ripper to hold anything against anyone associated with the Cafe. A dispute like that could draw attention, putting the customers at risk of being caught, and, by extent, putting Will out of business when it was no longer safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail came back out with a tray of fresh croissants, and she smiled at Will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you good? What’s with the new guy?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just don’t get on his bad side. I don’t know if he’ll be a regular, especially after all that, but no matter where you see him, don’t be rude. He’s got a thing about rudeness. I hope to god he doesn’t hurt Jeff,” Will said, aggressively taking a bite out of one of the croissants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail laughed lightly, though Will could tell she was also worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you even know why you call him Jeff?” she asked teasingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because that’s what he said for me to call him?” he said, prodding Abs to just get on with whatever she was about to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, duh, there’s that,” she said, “but he’s a total creepypasta fan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a creepypasta about a guy named Jeff?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will knew vaguely what creepypastas were, but he had never felt the inclination to read any, or listen to the narrations Abigail enjoyed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just about the most popular one,” she said, “Jeff the killer. He’s a huge thing in the community. Everyone knows about Jeff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, so Jeff figured out I know he’s a killer, and named himself accordingly. Clever of him,” Will said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s got at least that,” she said, “even though he might not be the sharpest knife in the block. He’s at least got that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will huffed a laugh and handed Abigail the tip Jeff had insisted on getting to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wanted this to go towards your college fund, so make sure to thank him and then actually get into a college, Abs,” Will said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail grinned and slipped the money into her pocket. She started setting the croissants into the display where the others had been getting low, and she shot Jeff a wide grin when he glanced over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will would protect Abigail with his life, but he was glad he had so many dangerous people behind him if that ever became necessary.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I might not know a thing about coffee, but I know my horror. Watch out for a ton more references just as obvious as Jeff here XD I'm not pulling any punches.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Titles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Iliad conversations, because they are a hannigram staple XD</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hello, Will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will recognized that voice, and he made sure to smile politely as he looked up to meet the burgundy eyes of the Chesapeake Ripper once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, sir,” Will replied pleasantly, “what can I do for you today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man had come in at a time when very few customers were around. Most of the regulars had jobs, or at least lives, and came by for a while in the mornings or evenings, but the middle of the day was typically slow for the café. Abigail was taking her lunch break, and had walked down the block to a sandwich shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ripper looked Will over once before speaking again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a peculiar man, Will,” he said, not making it sound like an insult, but certainly not meaning it as a compliment either, “I can’t but wonder how you have managed to gain such an influence over so many of your customers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will huffed a soft laugh and shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone wants to be understood and accepted,” Will said, taking a sip of his own coffee, though it was cold, “and I offer understanding and acceptance. My customers are safe when they are here. I might know dangerous things about them, but they all know I don’t intend to cause them any trouble. They return the favor, by not causing trouble for my shop, and by dealing with anyone who would. That’s why they almost chased you out the other day. They thought you were likely to make trouble for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ripper nodded thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose you are aware that the man you defended that morning is <em>not</em> named Jeff,” the man said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will shrugged again, leaning on the counter since it didn’t seem the man was about to order anything just yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know the real names of any of the regulars,” Will said, “it’s better for all of us that way. You might want to give me an alias as well if you plan to come in more, since I can’t very well announce to them all exactly who you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man tipped his head curiously, the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And who am I, <em>exactly</em>?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the Chesapeake Ripper,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ripper huffed his own laugh, looking at Will with open fascination now. He didn’t feel the need to hide it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can only wonder how you find such things out about your customers,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just something I’ve always been able to do. I don’t know why exactly all my customers happened to end up being this <em>particular</em> brand of odd, but I suppose I don’t care that much. I guess they all just want to be seen, and I can do that for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ripper hummed in consideration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What name would you give me for this alias?” he asked, his voice smooth and curious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will looked the man over, taking in every detail and processing it to come up with something appropriate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Order something and I’ll answer,” Will said at last, standing up fully and stretching a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ripper smiled and made his order. Will prepared his drink and wrote the name on the cup like all the other coffee shops did. He had never done it with his usual type of customer, because he didn’t know their names and he was never busy enough to make it necessary for them to be away from the counter while it was being prepared. He just thought this was an interesting game, and he had the feeling the Ripper would appreciate the gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here you go, sir,” Will said as he handed the drink to the Ripper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man lifted the cup and read what Will had written, smiling before he nodded to Will and headed out of the café once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will could tell he was impressed with the decision Will had made, and it gave him an inexplicable thrill to have pleased such a man. The Chesapeake Ripper was <em>pleased</em> with the name Will had bestowed upon him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What motivated you to choose such a name for me?” Achilles asked, standing at the counter, to the side so others could order as he spoke with Will, “Are you implying I may have some grand weakness?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will scoffed, quickly making a drink and handing it off to Carrie. She thanked him, though she cast curious glances at Achilles the entire time. Carrie had taken her name from the Stephen King work, being a horror fan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will wondered if all his regulars would be horror fans, or if it was just a<em> popular</em> thing among killers and not expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing so banal as that,” Will said, “it has more to do with the duality of your fate. You could live an easy life forever without drawing any attention, but you enjoy the novelty of being so singular in your craft that you will be remembered for many years to come. If you fall, it will be because of this decision to be known.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles hummed thoughtfully at that, watching with open amusement as Will refilled some of the machines and took the next order. Will wasn’t sure why the man was so interested in him, but he didn’t mind the conversation as much as he had expected to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Achilles was capable of turning back and living an unremarkable life, <em>until</em> the moment he resolved to kill Hector,” he said, “do you believe I am still redeemable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoever said you need <em>redeeming</em>?” he shot back, “but yes, you could still easily fade into the background and be safe, yet forgotten. I would venture to say the true weakness of Achilles was Patrocles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles tipped his head curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And who might <em>you</em> be, should you be carried through the metaphor?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will frowned, considering that as he took care of the next customer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose, for most of my regulars at least, I would be Odysseus,” he decided, “I offer advice and support, though I’m considered somewhat ‘other’ by the majority of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles huffed a soft laugh at that, seeming amused by Will’s answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Odysseus was a man of great wisdom and influence, though markedly not the most skilled warrior when compared to one such as Achilles. He was highly favored by Athena as well as the men he fought alongside. For perhaps anyone else, I would consider them vain for even comparing themselves to such a man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will looked at Achilles, reading his face carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles didn’t seem to be upset, but all of his emotions seemed more subdued than most of the regulars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But not me?” Will asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles turned and surveyed the building full of domesticated serial killers, eyes shining with some warm fondness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Not you,” Achilles said sincerely, “I believe you have a unique ability, and that it allows you to influence others effectively to create the atmosphere you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will hummed, placing a pastry down in front of Achilles despite him not having asked for anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what might that <em>unique ability</em> be?” he asked, propping his chin in his hand to look up at Achilles. Achilles smiled at his pastry and leaned forward a bit, meeting Will’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That, perhaps, is where you may be less like Odysseus,” he said, “Patrocles is the man described by his empathy. He essentially <em>became</em> Achilles on the battlefield, fighting because he could not stand by as so many suffered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nodded in consideration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might want to be more careful, Achilles,” he warned, “or I might just start finding you interesting, and then I’ll end up figuring out your real name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will turned and started on another customer who had walked up. Achilles smiled and took a bite of his pastry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You already know two names for me that reflect who I am better than any legally given name does,” he said, “how much do I owe you for this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will waved him off about the pastry, grinning and finishing up with the customer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No charge other than pleasant conversation,” Will said, “I don’t get many who just come in to talk with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles took another bite of his pastry, his eyes glittering pleasantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How unfortunate for them,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will smiled to himself as Achilles went to find a seat.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Me: *trying to think of pastry names and ending up just saying "pastry" anyway*  Sorry &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Games</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Abigail serves TEA</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Will, I don’t want to shock you,” Abigail said, “but Mr. Achilles has the hots for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will spluttered, trying not to choke on his coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was after hours, and they were just cleaning up and preparing pastries for the next day, so Will didn’t have to worry about any customers overhearing, but that didn’t stop him from looking around to be sure they were alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Abs?” Will demanded, scowling at her as she measured out some butter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just the truth,” she said with a shrug, “you think he comes here for the coffee? He only orders half the time. He compared you to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Patrocles</span>
  </em>
  <span> after </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> named him Achilles. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ancient gays</span>
  </em>
  <span>? For someone so smart most of the time, you can be really dumb sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will knew he was red and he tried to hide it behind his cup as he took another drink of his coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could fire you, you know,” Will said half-heartedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail laughed, dumping some flour into the mixing bowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if you want to have a hoard of serial killers after you,” she said, “they like me more than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will laughed at the tease, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to break it to you, but they were all coming here long before I hired you. They wouldn’t touch me,” he shot back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But they sure wouldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span> with you,” she pointed out, “so I guess you could take that chance and see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will huffed a laugh and shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t fire her. They both knew that. He also didn’t really want to test the loyalty of his customers. As much as they valued his services, they were a group not notorious for forgiveness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also, if you don’t like the idea of Mr. Achilles, I’d stop flirting with him if I were you,” Abigail said with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Will said, scoffing at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You give him free food and bat your eyelashes at him,” she said, leaning on the counter as if to mimic him, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No charge other than pleasant conversation, big strong ancient gay man.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is not what I sound like, and I do not bat my eyelashes,” Will objected, swatting her with a hand towel, “and it’s not wrong to have friends. You should try it sometime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail stuck her tongue out at him as she tasted the dough she was mixing, checking to see if it had been made correctly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have friends,” she said casually, “and </span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them aren’t even serial killers. Can you say the same?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will humphed at her, but didn’t otherwise answer. They both knew he didn’t have friends outside the café other than Beverly. His one normal friend, and she was a computer tech for a big security company. They didn’t talk much, and Beverly didn’t know the reality of what the café had turned in to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you think Achilles would be interested in me, anyway?” Will asked, curious despite himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ever heard of mirroring?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will’s expression must have communicated just how silly of a question that was, because Abigail just shrugged and continued talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When someone likes someone else, they tend to mirror their movements, either consciously or not. You lean on the counter, Achilles leans forward to match you. You smile, he smiles. He tries not to get caught doing it, so he’ll turn away sometimes and look somewhere else, but he always turns back quick. He can’t help but stare at you too. He has eyes for nothing else in the world but you, Will. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you can be so dense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will was actually considering this now. He hadn’t noticed the mirroring, but thinking back he realized they did often end up with the same position or posture. He almost always felt Achilles’ eyes on him too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damnit. Did Achilles actually</span>
  <em>
    <span> like</span>
  </em>
  <span> him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not to mention, he doesn’t exactly make friends with the other regulars,” Abigail continued, rolling out dough as she spoke, “he rarely even sits down in the café anymore. He just stands by the counter to talk to you. When he does sit, he sits alone and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stares </span>
  </em>
  <span>at you the entire time. That’s textbook infatuation right there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I get it,” Will said, stopping her from going any further and making him have a crisis, “I’ll try to be a little more aware from now on. God. You’re like a child sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail pouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m an </span>
  <em>
    <span>adult</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she complained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will huffed a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still a teenager, though,” he reminded her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For one month!” she objected, putting her hands on her hips and getting flour all over her clothes, “you’re worse than Norman!”</span>
</p><p> <span>Will grinned.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Who’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Norman</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” he asked sweetly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh. You’re more of a child than I ever was,” Abigail said, throwing a handful of flour at him and getting it all over his clothes as well, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to start dating him, but I just need to convince him </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> wants that too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he’d better watch out. You’ve got a thing for psychology.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail stuck her tongue out at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will smiled, though he felt a pang of panic at hearing the voice again after Abigail literally spelling it all out for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Morning, Achilles. What can I get for you today?” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other regulars had taken to leaving Achilles alone after Will had started referring to him by the name. It was like a rite of passage, where having an alias meant you were allowed to visit the café in peace. Will hadn’t noticed that before this man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles hummed pleasantly, his eyes drawing over Will’s face fondly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like to have what you first gave me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can recall what it was,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A clear challenge, and one Will was well equipped for. He had a fabulously good memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One Artist’s Blood, and one Cannibal Crown coming up,” he said with a wink, turning to get them for the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh god. Had he just</span>
  <em>
    <span> flirted</span>
  </em>
  <span> with Achilles? He hadn’t thought about it first. He had just acted how they usually acted with each other. Were they </span>
  <em>
    <span>usually</span>
  </em>
  <span> flirting with each other? Was that what this was?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will turned back around, knowing his face was a complete blushing mess, and put the cup and the pastry down on the counter for Achilles. The man smiled warmly, as he always did, and Will felt a flutter in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Will,” Achilles said, taking some cash from his pocket and holding it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Will took the money, Achilles grabbed his hand. He didn’t pull sharply, yanking Will towards him, as Will expected. Instead, he just held on, waiting for Will to look up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will finally looked up, meeting his eyes, and the man tipped his head curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there something wrong, Will?” Achilles asked, his thumb tracing over Will’s knuckles absently, he actually looked concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will swallowed and shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sir</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Will said, tensing a bit and feeling his face heat up even more, “Be careful out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles blinked, then looked down at where their hands were joined. He traced his thumb over Will’s knuckles again, more slowly and deliberately, then lifted it and pressed a kiss where his thumb had gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will Graham,” Achilles whispered, “I hope you do not fear me, but know this: </span>
  <em>
    <span>you will be mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, he was gone. Will was left, holding the cash in his hand, his face blank and flushed. Achilles was gone so fast Will didn’t have time to process what had happened.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm going to be updating a bit more sporadically for a while. I'm hoping to get a new job, and then I'm moving, so I'm going to be pretty busy. I'll update as often as I'm able, and I'm posting the first chapter of a few fics I've been working on. <br/>&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Risks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Abigail walked into the kitchen and saw Will with his back against the counter, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, she knew something was up. She came over and sat opposite him, watching him expectantly until he finally spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you were right,” Will said, taking another swig from the bottle, “Achilles has it out for me. I just don’t know if it’s in the way we thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail raised her eyebrows and reached for the bottle, but Will pulled it away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Not gonna happen,” he said, “you’re not even almost there. You’ve still got a year to go before that’s legal. This is mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail pouted, but she let it go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so are you saying he might be thinking of taking you out in the not </span>
  <em>
    <span>dinner-and-kissing </span>
  </em>
  <span>way?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, maybe they're the same thing for him,” he said, then stopped, “No. Forget I said that. They aren’t. Not for him. He’s not that </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind</span>
  </em>
  <span> of killer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail watched him for another moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you can figure out what kind of killer this guy is just by talking a few times, but you can’t figure out if he’s flirting or threatening?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think he’s used to being in a situation where he can be himself with someone,” he said, “so he’s not acting the same around me as he would with someone he’s planning on dating or killing. I have no reference point or contrast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail hummed at that, tipping her head back so it tapped the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re in a real jam, aren’t you?” she asked, “at least you have all our regs behind you if he tries anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That won’t do any good,” he said, “if he kills me, not only will there be no evidence it was him, he would easily take out anyone who went after him. Jeff, Carrie, Jason, Freddy. None of them would stand a chance against him. Even if they all went at him together, I don’t know who would come out the other side. If he decides to kill me, there’s no stopping him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail looked down at her hands, fidgeting nervously. Will could tell she was worried for him, and that she was afraid. He hadn’t meant to frighten her, but he wanted her to be aware of the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So let’s just hope he’s going for the dinner and kissing way,” Will said, earning a laugh from Abigail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will, please be safe,” Abigail said quietly, hugging her knees to her chest, “I don’t have a home to come back to anymore. Once I go to college, I don’t have parents to visit on the weekends or for holidays. I don’t have a place to come when I have a hard day. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> that for me now. You and the café, and all those stupid killers that hang out here. This is my family, and my home. I couldn’t stand to lose all of this too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will put down the whiskey and moved over to hug Abigail. She had never confessed all that to him before, though he had figured it out. Abigail had lost everything when her father had been caught. He had killed her mom right in front of her, and had almost killed her too. She didn’t have a family aside from this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Abs,” he said, pulling her close and setting his chin on top of her hair, “I know. I’ll do my best. I just want you to be safe and happy. If anything happens to me, you get the shop, and I bet all the regs will make sure nothing threatens it. I want you to be sure that you’re going to be okay. Even if I’m not around someday, because we both know I’ll die sooner or later, I’m going to make sure you are taken care of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will hadn’t told her before that he had made sure to make her his sole beneficiary if he died. He hadn’t expected it to come up, but he felt like he had to give her some reassurance in this moment. Let her know she wouldn’t be left with nothing. Not again. She would have somewhere to start this time, and people to help her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t her father, but he was going to do better than he had. Her father had left her with nothing but a tainted name and a tabloid journalist after her scent. Will wanted to give her something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t leave me, Will,” she sobbed into his shoulder, “I won’t ever forgive you if you leave. Everyone always leaves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will shushed her gently, stroking her hair to soothe her. He wanted to cry right along with her, because it all felt that way at times. His own parents had left him at a young age, and he hadn’t been able to make anything of himself until he started this café. She and him were the same. They were alone without each other, and adrift at sea without the café.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abigail, I can’t promise to be around forever, you know that,” Will said, fighting back the urge to promise the impossible, “but I’ll be strong for you, and I’ll fight for you, as long as you do the same for me. Be strong, and fight. Don’t ever let the world tell you what you should be, because you’re the only one who gets to decide that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail continued to sob and sniff into his shoulder, and Will just held her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was cathartic to experience this with her, even though Will didn’t cry himself. Feeling her work through the pain and fear as he helped was as good as going through it all in his own heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will did all the baking after Abigail went home that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will looked up with a smile, meeting the dark brown eyes of someone who looked too young to be one of his usual kind of customers, but he saw the same hunger in the boy’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“White shark has something for everyone’s unique tastes, be they predator or prey,” Will chirped back, “what can I do for you today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy tipped his head, reminding Will of a curious dog the way he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?” the boy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will almost rolled his eyes, realizing this kid had come because he wanted Will to read him. Will looked him over before pointing to the menu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two birds with one stone and a bear claw,” he said, “unless you’re more fresh than you look, in which case I would suggest a short blonde.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy grinned, apparently giddy about being understood. Will almost wanted to step farther away from him, having grown used to the others being casually friendly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’m all that fresh,” the boy said with a smile, “so the first one sounds good to me. I don’t suppose you’re hiring, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will paused in his work for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> need more help, and he would need even more once Abigail left for college. He had actually been thinking about hiring someone, though he had been hesitant due to what the job was like. He couldn’t exactly advertise that he needed someone who could bake, make coffee, and sympathize with serial killers since that was the majority of their business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this kid was one of </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That might work out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will turned and set the order down on the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just might be, but why do you ask?” Will said, smiling politely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid handed over a card to pay unlike the usual cash the regs used to keep their anonymity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A friend of mine told me to ask, but they said to keep their name out of it, which I hear is sorta a theme in the café,” he said with a shrug, taking a sip of the coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nodded, not sure who would have thought he needed fresh help, but knowing it could rightly be any of the regs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. What do you know about coffee?” Will asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a connoisseur,” the boy shot back just as quickly, grinning widely, “and this is excellent, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nodded, waving him down. The enthusiasm was a bit over the top for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about baking?” he shot back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me a recipe and I’ll get it close the first time, if not perfect,” he replied casually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what exactly do you know about how this café is run? What did your friend tell you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This part was important, because Will refused to hire someone who was unaware who they would be dealing with on a daily basis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy smiled and leaned in close, lowering his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most of the customers are killers, and you keep that pretty lowkey so they keep coming back,” he said, “you don’t ask questions, and they don’t string you up over the café awning. Is that what you wanted to hear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bit dramatic, but essentially yes. You can start tomorrow if that works, and I’ll run you through the motions at noon. That’s when we’re pretty slow, but still get customers. Perfect time for training. You in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy grinned even wider and stuck his hand out for a shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds good, sir. My name’s Billy, and I can’t wait to get started.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will shook his hand with a smile, hoping this was a sign that things were going to go well for a while at least. He didn’t want all this drama in his life. He just wanted to run a little café, and see Abigail go to college, and live his boring but peaceful life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Life had other plans.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Anybody recognize where Billy's from??? Probably. I'm not being overly subtle XD <br/>(next chapter might make it more obvious, though)</p><p>I'm trying to update whenever I can. Getting around to writing is a bit of a struggle at the moment, though. <br/>&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Offerings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Billy Loomis was right when he told Will he could get most recipes the first time. He wasn’t as good as Abigail, but everything he made was technically correct. He worked well, was cheery with the customers, and had a very dark sense of humor that amused them all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was also a huge horror movie buff, meaning he got right along with Carrie and the likes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The regulars didn’t rally around Billy the same way they had with Abigail. Maybe it was because he was a killer. Maybe it was because he was a boy. Will didn’t really know, but he figured it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they didn’t hate the kid or feel the need to kill him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir,” Billy said, poking his head back into the kitchen where Will was working, “this guy says he wants to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will cursed under his breath. He didn’t want to have to deal with any problems at the moment, but he knew Billy was hardly the person to let handle any sort of confrontation. The boy had a hot temper and sharp tongue that could come off as incredibly rude if you managed to irk him at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell him I’ll only be half a tic, and then I’ll be out,” Will called back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy nodded and went back to the counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will finished what he was doing and headed up to the front of the store, trying to brush some of the flour off his clothes despite the futility of the effort. He looked nothing like a manager, much less a store owner, when he was such a mess, but whoever it was was going to get what they got anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Will,” Achilles said, smiling genially.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will inwardly cursed even more aggressively than he just had, finding himself wanting to fidget and squirm like a child at the shoe store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Achilles,” Will said politely, “What can I do for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will glanced at Billy, wondering if he had done something to upset the man, which would be bad news for multiple reasons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we no longer on speaking terms, or have I interrupted you in something?” Achilles asked, tipping his head curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just got done, so you’re in luck there, but I must ask if this is something important you want to talk about. I figured Billy could have made your coffee, and I thought you might want to get familiar with him too, since he’s new here,” Will said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of that was just rubbish, because Will knew Achilles wasn’t interested in getting to know some kid who worked </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> Will. He clearly had come to talk to Will, and had been disappointed when he had been met by Billy’s bored expression instead. Will just wanted to get the man to say something that might shine a light on what he was really thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing of too much importance, if I am keeping you from something,” Achilles replied carefully, looking Will up and down slowly, “but I did come with an offering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles lifted up a small container of food, and Will felt his shoulders tense. He knew this man was not the regular kind of killer. He had guessed the first day that the man was a cannibal, but he hadn’t expected him to bring</span>
  <em>
    <span> him</span>
  </em>
  <span> any food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>test</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Chesapeake Ripper was testing Will, to see if he would accept an actual offering of flesh. There was clearly only one right answer in the man’s eyes, but the moral and ethical parts of Will’s mind argued about the reality of the situation and the implications of accepting such a gift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Will asked, stepping forward with interest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man set the container on the counter and pulled the lid off, releasing an aroma of cooked meat and eggs into the air. Will confessed to himself that it was making his mouth water, and he hadn’t eaten anything substantial in days. He mostly lived off coffee and the pastries he made for the cafe. Real food sounded like heaven to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A simple protein scramble,” Achilles answered, inching the container closer to Will as if to entice him further, “A good meal for the beginning of a day, and relatively portable, making it the ideal choice for me as an offering today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will took another step toward the counter despite himself. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to accept the food, seeing sausage in the mix that he was sure contained more than beef or pork. The increasingly prominent voice at the back of his skull insisted it was just meat, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>hadn’t killed the person, so he needn’t feel guilty about eating it. It would be consumed whether he accepted it or not. The only thing </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> could determine was if he would be well fed that day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you feel as if you need to offer something?” Will asked, taking the container from Achilles and studying the contents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looked even better than it smelled, and Will was willing to bet it </span>
  <em>
    <span>tasted</span>
  </em>
  <span> even better than that. He wanted to eat it so badly, but he also wanted to feel disgusted by that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was concerned I may have done something to upset you, reflecting back on our last conversation,” Achilles admitted, watching as Will studied the food, “and regardless, you often offer food to me, and I thought it was time I return the favor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will hummed taking a deep breath and filling his lungs with the aromas coming off the food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>sinful</span>
  </em>
  <span> of him, he knew. He shouldn’t want anything this bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Will said at last, pulling a plastic fork from the cup on the counter, “but just this once. I don’t want the rest of the regs to think I play favorites.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will flashed a smile, hoping he wasn’t making the man feel uncomfortable or concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well. Perhaps next time I wish to treat you I will simply ask you to dinner at my home,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will felt his face heat up, and he took a bite of food to avoid being expected to have a response to that. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>obscenely</span>
  </em>
  <span> delicious, and he wanted to hate Achilles for letting him know that. Human flesh should absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be allowed to taste good if it was morally wrong to eat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy flicked his gaze between the two of them, raising an eyebrow curiously. Will was not ready for this kind of attention, especially from some kid he didn’t even know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can ask all you want,” Will replied, smiling as innocently as he could, “but convincing me to accept the invitation might be another battle altogether. Did you want a coffee this morning, or just came to see my face?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles blinked, apparently stunned at Will’s sudden change in attitude toward him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two could play at this game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you be averse to it if I had?” Achilles asked, tipping his head curiously, “If I came to your shop today for no reason other than to set eyes on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will huffed a laugh and took another bite of the food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just this once,” Will said again, “I’ll let it slide. Buy something next time, and I’ll make sure to smile at you as you leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles smiled and gave a curt nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well. It’s very prudent of you to set forward expectations at this point,” he said conspiratorially, “I look forward to our next meeting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he turned to leave, but Will called after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you want your dish back?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Achilles shook his head lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Return it to me next time you see me,” he said simply, “I don’t expect to miss it before then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he was gone again, leaving Will to wonder if he had made a mistake by poking at him. Will had mostly been hoping to keep on the man’s good side, without letting himself become boring to him. Will knew he could be dangerous to the man if he became boring, so it was better to keep his interest as long as he could, but he didn’t want to have Achilles become fixated on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> part of his plan was working.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you and him a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Billy asked, tossing his hair from his face and smirking at Will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will sighed and shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not like our regulars, Billy,” he said, “and I don’t really want to get mixed up with any of it. I’m just trying not to get myself killed. You should try to stay on his good side too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy hummed in consideration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He a big player on the field?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will studied Billy for a moment, trying to decide what to say to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get yourself killed,” is what he landed on, “it would bring too much attention to the café.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy huffed a laugh and nodded, turning back to the register as Misery walked in. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she looked up at Billy, and smiled. Will walked back to the kitchen, not really in the mood to watch her flirt with the boy. </span>
</p>
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